The Morning After
by Aeon65
Summary: Continuation of Love, Hurt, and Sprouts Read that first. The morning after their first night together, Horatio and Speed share some of their past with each other. Slash, don't like it, don't read it. RETOOLEDfixed some typos,rewritten so it flows better.


**Rating:** T

**Warning:** This story is Slash. If you don't like that then don't read any further.

**Paring:** Horatio/Speed

**Disclaimer:** DOA – Don't Own Anything

**Author's Note 1:** Before I get a bunch of emails about my timeline regarding Horatio's mother's death, here is my logic. There was an episode during the first half of season one called _Wet Foot Dry Foot,_ when Calliegh asked Horatio how old he was. He replied that he was 45. This was in 2002, so he was born in 1957. In season four, 2005, Stettler asks about his New York trip and the warrant that was served to him. Horatio said that 25 years earlier he had intervened on a situation that lead to the death of his mother. If he was 45 in season one, then he was 48 in season four. So 25 years earlier, would have been 1980 and Horatio would have been 23 years old.

**Author's Note 2:** I have updated this story somewhat from the original. Basically, my writing style has improved significantly since I started doing this and this version of the story flows much better and fits in more easily with the rest of the series now. Hopefully all of the typos are now fixed also.

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The early morning sun shone through the bedroom window and streamed across the face of Tim Speedle. He stirred. His still sleepy brain was recalling a particularly vivid erotic dream from the night before. He groaned to himself and stretched, his foot brushing up against something. He froze for a moment, realizing the something was a someone. He opened one eye.

His suddenly wide awake brain flashed back to last night. _Not a dream,_ he realized with a smile. Lying in his bed, on his side, back to Tim, was his boss Horatio Caine. Tim reached a hand out and gently ran it over Horatio's arm. He didn't want to wake the other man but needed to touch him, to reassure himself that he was awake and that this was real.

Tim glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It read 6:15, still early. He lay on his side thinking, not loosing contact with Horatio's skin. He was a little concerned as to how this morning might play out. It had been a long time since he had been in this position. Would his companion be embarrassed and want to leave when he awoke. This was a genuine concern for Tim. How might what happened last night affect their working relationship. He felt, for his part anyway, that they could deal with it.

Horatio had turned out to be a very different person than the one he knew at work, not that he minded. He liked this other side of Horatio very much. He looked at his companion, laying there next to him. His lower half tangled in the sheets and his hair delightfully rumpled. At the same time Tim felt a pang of guilt. He closed his eyes and the image of another man stood there before him. Tim shook his head, _you can't mourn him forever_. He only hoped that Horatio hadn't noticed the silent tears he'd shed for David as they'd made love for the first time.

Trying to push thoughts of David to the background for now he moved from stroking Horatio's arm to his back, running his fingers over the scars he found there. He found himself wondering what life must have been like for the young Horatio, living in such a violent environment. He'd seen plenty of young child abuse victims, bruised, battered, and scared. He had trouble imagining Horatio as one of those kids.

Horatio lay there not moving. He had been awake for the past ten minutes, thoroughly enjoying the feel of Tim's feathery light touch over his back. But the affect on his body was becoming more profound and he couldn't stifle the satisfied hum that escaped his lips as he stirred. Tim froze in his movements, _busted._

Horatio chuckled. "I didn't say stop," he said lazily and Tim resumed what he had been doing with a chuckle. His slight tension of a moment ago seeping away. Horatio rolled over so he was laying on his back, Tim's touch continuing but now on his chest, sending shivers down his body.

Unknown to Tim, Horatio had also been thinking about how their relationship had suddenly changed and what the repercussions might be. But as Tim leaned in to kiss Horatio his mind cleared of any doubts. "Morning," he managed to say in a sleepy voice. And as Tim's hand moved lower on his body, all conscious thought left Horatio's mind.

An hour later they lay curled together, not wanting to leave the sanctuary of their bed just yet. Tim had his head on Horatio's chest allowing himself to be lulled by the other man's heartbeat.

"Ya know, H," Tim said hesitantly, "I was a little worried about this morning."

"Hmm." Tim felt the sound vibrate in Horatio's chest, tickling his ear. "As was I," Horatio continued. "We have to be careful, if this is to continue." Horatio held his breath, not sure of his companions intentions for anything longer that a weekend.

Tim looked up at him. "I've been hiding my whole life, Horatio. I suspect we both have. A gay cop isn't exactly…" The thought trailed off and Horatio nodded in understanding. "Besides, it's not like we're a couple of love sick teenager who can't control themselves in public."

Horatio smiled, "No, we're a couple of love sick adults." Tim laughed.

He laid his head back on Horatio's chest. They lapsed into a comfortable silence with Horatio absently running his fingers through Tim's hair. After a few minutes Horatio broke the silence with a question.

"Tim?"

"Hmm."

"How old were you? The first time, I mean." He could feel Tim smile. Without changing his position, Tim began his story.

"Fourteen. His name was Seth. He was sixteen. We played on the high school soccer team together." Tim's voice became wistful. "I'd known for some time that I was interested in other boys but I'd never acted on those feelings before. The boy's locker room had communal showers. And at that age your just a big sack of uncontrolled hormones." Horatio chuckled.

"It was sort of embarrassing actually. I couldn't explain to the other boys why I would get a raging hard on every time I went into the showers. I decided that the best way to deal with it was to make sure the others were done showering before I went in, so I volunteered for cleanup duty. I had to put all of the equipment away after practice. By the time I got done the others were gone and I had the showers to myself, or so I thought.

Seth used to watch me. He would also wait to shower and wander in to the shower room while I was in there. At first it was embarrassing, but after a while I started to like the attention. One day after practice, I thought I was alone in the shower. I was wrong. Seth came up behind me, pulled me back against him, started kissing my neck, and," he paused, "became an active participant in my shower-time activities."

Tim stayed lost in his memory for a moment before he returned the question to Horatio.

"How about you?"

Horatio was quiet for a moment. Like most memories of his youth, this one was tinged with sadness, more so than some others. But he knew when he'd asked Tim the question that eventually he would need to reciprocate. Before Tim had a chance to say anything or withdraw his question, he began to speak.

"It was different for me. I was older. It was 1980, I was twenty-three. It happened after a traumatic event in my life and lead to some major changes for me. You see, I'd been raised a strict Catholic. I was an alter boy. As a teenager I would sometimes confess to the priest that I had feelings for the other boys. He would always tell me that I had to rid myself of those feeling, that they were not pure and against God. So I dated girls throughout high school, slept with girls in college. But those feelings were never far from the surface.

At twenty-three I was a beat cop on Staten Island, not far from my old neighborhood. Ray was away at college and I was living on my own. When I could, I would stop by my folk's apartment to see my mom, always during the day when my old man was at work. This one day, when I got to the building, I could hear him from the street, yelling at her. Then I heard a scream. I knew it was my mother so I ran up the five flights of steps as fast as I could, drew my weapon, and kicked the door in. I found her lying on the kitchen floor in a pool of blood. My old man was standing over her with a knife in his hand. I pointed my gun at him. He just laughed. Said I didn't have the guts to shoot him and I never would. Then he came at me, with the same knife he had just used to kill my mother. I didn't think, just reacted. I pulled the trigger and shot him center on in the chest, right through the heart. He died instantly."

Horatio stopped for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Tim was stunned at his confession. He had no idea what to say. Horatio continued, "I reported what happened. IAB investigated and determined the shooting to be justifiable, self defense. Then I went to the only other person I thought I could talk to, our priest. I knew murder was a sin, but it had been ruled justifiable. My life was threatened and I defended myself."

"I take it the priest didn't see it that way," Tim said sympathetically.

"Not exactly. He said killing another human being was a sin under any circumstances and I would be doing penance for a long time to make up for it. Needless to say, I was a mess emotionally after that. I was loosing my faith and I'd just lost both of my parents. One by my own hand. I got drunk that night, very drunk. I could barely stand. At about two that morning I called a friend, Dan Kelly. He picked me up at the bar and took me to his apartment. I stayed there until after the funeral. My first time was with Dan, two days after my mother's funeral. It was a tremendous release of emotion for me. That's when I left the church. Because nothing that felt so right could be against God."

Tim straitened up and wrapped his arms around Horatio, who took a great deal of comfort in the gesture. He smiled, "Tim, it's okay, really. It was twenty years ago. Besides, I asked you first."

Tim leaned back and nodded. He knew for certain that after that confession he would be telling Horatio about David, probably soon. Suddenly Horatio got a wicked look in his eye, "I have an idea, how about a shower." He waggled his eyebrows.

Tim burst out laughing. He suddenly felt much better, "You're on."

Horatio stood in Tim's bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, looking in the mirror as he combed his still damp hair back. He was thinking that sex in the shower with Tim Speedle was going right at the top of his list of actions he needed to repeat. Tim grabbed an old worn pair of jeans he kept hanging on the back of the bathroom door and slipped them on.

Horatio looked over at him. "Hey, would you mind getting my overnight bag from the trunk of my car. I have some clean clothes in it."

"Yeah, no problem. Keys?" Tim asked.

"Uhm," he had to think for a moment, "pocket of my suit pants… where ever they landed last night." He smiled. Tim was definitely getting used to that smile. Especially knowing that he was the cause of it.

"I'll find them and be right back," he said flashing Horatio a smile of his own.

He returned a few minutes later and dropped the bag on his bed. "Get dressed and I'll go throw some coffee on and get breakfast started. What do you like?" he asked.

"Well, I don't usually eat breakfast, just coffee."

"Come on, you can't tell me that after all that… activity last night and this morning that you aren't hungry."

Horatio chuckled. "Starving, actually," he admitted, ducking his head. "Whatever you've got is fine with me."

Horatio got dressed and joined Tim in the kitchen. Tim stopped what he was doing to eye him. Horatio smiled shyly, "What?"

Tim shrugged. "I've just never seen you in jeans before," he said with a smile.

Horatio looked down at himself. He had dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a green button-down shirt. He looked back up at Tim who said, "Don't worry. I like it." He gave Horatio a quick kiss. "Now shoo, while I get breakfast ready."

Horatio chuckled and headed out to the living room. He hadn't really had a chance to look around much the night before. Everything had happened so quickly. Not to mention the fact that he had been just a little distracted. He took some time to look over Tim's book shelves. He had a lot of books. Books on forensics, chemistry, novels, murder mysteries.

Next to the shelf with the books was another shelf with some photographs. There was a picture of a younger Tim, dressed in his collegiate cap and gown standing with an older couple that Horatio assumed were his parents. One photograph of a young boy maybe twelve or thirteen, probably Tim, in his soccer uniform, holding a soccer ball. At the other end of the shelf sat a small white photo album next to a picture in a simple silver frame. Horatio looked at the picture. It was Tim standing arm in arm with another man, both dressed in tuxedos. They were smiling.

His first thought was that it looked an awful lot like a wedding photo. Except for the fact that it was a picture of two men, and Florida had a law against gay marriage. The man standing with Tim looked familiar but he couldn't place the face. He picked up the frame to get a better look, just as Tim walked in.

"Hey, Horatio, do you like feta cheese?" he asked.

Horatio spun around still holding the frame. Tim froze when he saw it. He held up the frame, pointing to the man next to Tim. "He looks familiar, but I can't place him."

Tim took a deep breath. This was a bit sooner than he expected. He had hoped to, at least, get through breakfast. He took the frame from Horatio and move to the sofa. He stared at the photo running his hand over the face of the other man in the picture. Without looking up he said quietly, "His name was David."

"Was?" Horatio questioned.

Tim sighed and nodded. "Do you," his voice cracked and he cleared his throat. He started again. "Do you remember a call out we got about two years ago? Near Antioch High School. Hit and run. Meagan sent the two of us."

Horatio nodded, a sick feeling beginning to rise in his stomach. "Yeah, you had to excuse yourself because you said you knew the victim."

A single tear escaped Tim's eye and Horatio was next to him with lightning speed. He put an arm around his shoulder. "He was more than your friend." It was a statement, not a question. Tim nodded, not trusting his voice.

After taking a moment to compose himself he continued his story. "David moved to Miami from New York so we could be together. We'd met in college." He had to stop again. This was a lot harder than he was expecting.

"Look, you don't have to tell me," Horatio said in a soothing voice. It was obvious this was very upsetting for him.

Tim cleared his throat again, "Yeah, H, I do. It's important to me that you know. Just… just give me a minute." Horatio just nodded and waited. Once Tim felt he was ready, he continued.

"David and I were together for three years when we decided we wanted to get married. We knew we couldn't do it legally but that wasn't going to stop us from pledging our lives to each other." He stared at the photo again, a sad smile crossed his face. "We rented a hall, got a friend to perform a ceremony. We said our vows, ate, danced. There was a photographer. We went on a honeymoon, bought a house. We were ready to grow old together."

He looked up at Horatio, the pain still evident in his eyes. Horatio moved closer and pulled Tim into a hug. Tim rested his head on Horatio's shoulder. "I had no idea at the time. God, Tim, you got a call out to your spouse's murder," he said with tears forming in his own eyes. "And you couldn't tell anyone the truth." Tim just nodded.

He sniffled, wiping his eyes. "David was a high school chemistry teacher at Antioch. He preferred to walk to work. A legacy of growing up in Manhattan, I guess."

They sat together, not moving from their embrace. Tim pulled away first and looked Horatio in the eye. "I haven't been with anyone since David's death. Until last night, that is," he said with a lopsided sad smile.

Horatio's eyes widened at that admission. "Tim… I… I don't…," he stuttered. "I'm honored," he finally managed.

"Wow, Horatio Caine at a loss for words. I never thought I'd see the day," he joked.

Horatio pursed his lips and rolled his eyes. He took Tim's face in his hands and kissed him gently. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

Tim got up and carefully placed the picture back on the shelf next to his wedding album. He took a deep cleansing breath. "You still hungry?" he asked. "I can make omelets."

Horatio smiled, "Yeah, I'd love that." He followed Tim to the kitchen hoping they would both be around to share these sort of moments for a long, long time.

Fin


End file.
